


Sparks

by Irelando



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: AU - they live, Drabble, Established Relationship-ish, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:32:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8987770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irelando/pseuds/Irelando
Summary: She could fall forever into the warm depths of his eyes.(musings on and snippets of rebelcaptain)





	

Much of the time, their relationship is physical. It usually starts with a good-natured tussle, a fully-clothed wrestling match that lands them on the bed. He might be bigger and stronger than she is, but he’s a pilot, not a brawler, and Jyn’s never been afraid to fight dirty. Sometimes it ends with her knees on either side of his chest, her hands on his wrists, her mouth on his and the taste of victory on her tongue. Other times it ends with her on her back, her hands in his hair, his face between her legs –

(turns out he’s not afraid to fight dirty either)

But it’s always warm, and fun, and she could fall forever into the warm depths of his eyes.

He’s over her one night and his hand lands wrong, draws a grunt and a huff from her. He stops, hovers.

“Come on, you’re not gonna break me,” she says, dragging his hands back to her.

He smirks, that little quirk at the side of his mouth, and Jyn gets the sinking feeling she might be in over her head, here. “I know,” he says after a moment, skimming his hands ever so lightly across her stomach.

She grips his thighs, one on either side of her own, as his callused fingers drift over her nipples. “Cassian—“

He chuckles, cups her breasts for a moment. Trails a finger up, across her collarbone. She bites back a noise that might have been a whine. “When was the last time someone was gentle with you?” he asks.

There hasn’t been room in her life for gentle. Not for a long time. Not since—

“It’s been awhile,” she grits out.

“Might be nice,” he says speculatively, his fingers tracing along her jaw.

She growls and nips at them. “Cassian, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll show you just how not gentle I can be.”

He laughs, leans down to kiss her. “Maybe we’ll try gentle another time,” he murmurs against her lips.

\--

Cassian Andor has always pictured his rage as magma. Deep, smoldering under the surface, only erupting when the pressure is truly too great. And always when it is of maximum use.

If he is magma, Jyn Erso is a forest fire. Her anger crackles, it rages, it _spreads_ , bright and terrible and beautiful, and leaves seeds of new life in its wake. He can almost see it, just under her skin, flaring out of her eyes.

It certainly got under his skin. Painful at first – her accusations, her refusal to understand _she’s not the only one who hurts_ – but then… cleansing. It took his snarled, conflicted thoughts and burned the uncertainty away, gave him one single bright star to chase. The Death Star plans were a worthy thing to die for. He was ready to die.

But they lived. Call it the Force, call it sheer dumb luck, they made it out.

Not all of them.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks him one night. Her head rests on his chest, his arm around her shoulders.

He traces circles on her bare bicep. “What K2 would have said about this. Us.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then snorts. “Probably something about the probability that I’d bite your dick off.”

He winces. “Ah—“

She clicks her teeth together. “Snap. Right off. Maybe he’d even bring anatomy pictures for good measure.”

He laughs, a little. Stares up at the ceiling. “I miss him.”

Jyn runs her hand across his chest. “I know.”

It’s not much, but it’s enough.


End file.
